


Long Game

by sincerelyjessy



Series: Twitch Verse [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 03:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11394630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelyjessy/pseuds/sincerelyjessy
Summary: "The packed room made it impossible to dance with much room between them, and in another time Kurt may have cared, but this was the energy of the night, bodies pressed flush together, moving in complimentary ways." An off-handed comment leads to a night of social experiments.





	Long Game

Kurt was working more than usual lately. He did that from time to time when he wanted to save up for something he really wanted. This time it was a Calvin Klein trench-coat that he decided he had to have ever since he saw it in a Macy’s three weeks ago. He’d stopped asking his Dad for handouts a while back, when he realized just how thinly they were stretched financially. Plus, he liked the quality time they got at the garage, just the two of them as it had so rarely been nowadays.

Of course, not everyone understood Kurt wanting to actually work for his money. Least of all Sebastian.

“I could just put it on my card.” He’d offered once, nonchalantly. Of course, Kurt had said no. He didn’t like taking advantage. More importantly, he didn’t like owing people.

Sebastian was easily replacing his crush-turned-step-brother Finn Hudson as the strangest evolution in his life so far, although nowhere near as easy to label.

Adversary-turned-ally? No, that was too formal. Maybe enemy-turned-friend? That was closer, but still missing something.

It frustrated Kurt to no end. Before, the world had been divided into the good (his dad, the lunch ladies, Barbra Streisand) and the bad (jocks, math teachers, and both George Bush’s).

But there were people like Sebastian now, those that rested in Kurt’s moral blind spot. And so he’d initially tossed him in “ the bad” for his own peace of mind, but that wasn’t quite right now. Maybe it never was.

But it wasn’t all smooth sailing, either. No, sometimes Sebastian could still be downright rude. And so could Kurt. But he liked being around someone he didn’t have to handle with care.

Unlike Tina, who seemed to be taking Kurt’s cancellations particularly personally. So when Mercedes had suggested the three of them had a sleepover, Kurt made sure to attend, and put up with her passive aggressive comments. He figured braiding her hair would pacify her, and so far it was working.

Until Kurt’s phone started buzzing somewhere on the bed, and Tina found it before he did.

“Sebastian wants to know if you’re free.” She announced.

“Tell him I’m busy.” Kurt said, searching for her hair band.

He could tell from the way she was snickering that that was in fact, not what she typed, and grabbed the phone from her hand.

 _‘Always free for you babe’_ is what the screen read, and Kurt groaned loudly.

Tina was making an “oops” face, and once Mercedes leaned over and saw the screen she started laughing. And then, to top it off, Kurt’s phone started ringing. Rolling his eyes at the two of them, he got out of the bed and picked it up.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian said, sounding genuinely concerned.

“…yes?”

“Oh, thank god. I thought that was some sort of distress signal. Or that you hit your head or something.”

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Kurt deadpanned. “My friend just had my phone.”

“Oh.” Sebastian said, dropping the act. “You have friends?”

“Bye Sebastian.”

"Wait. So you’re not free?”

“No.”

“Not even for me, babe?” And his grin was practically audible.

“ _Bye Sebastian._ ” Kurt said, hanging up before he could hear his dumb laugh.

Kurt looked up to find Tina and Mercedes still laughing, and he walked back over and picked up the nearest pillow, aiming square for Tina’s face.

 

Sebastian had this weird habit of telling Kurt about guys he found attractive—or more specifically, things he’d like to do with those guys—as if Kurt would be able to contribute anything constructive aside from “wow” or “ew” or “seriously?”

And Kurt knew Sebastian was expecting some kind of reciprocity, but he just couldn’t get into that kind of thing, didn’t think those parts of his mind were meant to be on display.

“Do you ever get tired of being such an ice queen?” Sebastian drawled once, tracing the loose bits of upholstery on the armchair with his spindly fingers. They were trying out a new coffee place at Kurt’s insistence, one of those homelier ones with old décor and comfy seating. The French paper Sebastian was supposed to be looking over for him was all but forgotten

Kurt pretended to consider his question. “Not really, no.”

“I think you’re sexually repressed, princess.”

Kurt’s brow furrowed at that. Sebastian had a way of saying things as if they were the undisputed truth, and not something he’d decided was fact on a whim.

“Am I a princess or a queen? Make up your mind.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He sensed he’d hit a nerve, content in his role as provocateur. Kurt leaned even further back into his chair, willing it to pull him in just so he could escape this conversation. “You know, you’re making a lot of assumptions.”

“You can’t even make eye contact with me right now.”

Kurt looked up at him and glared, if only defiantly. “Your point?”

“My _point_ is you’re so…wound up all the time.”

“I am not.” Kurt insisted.

“Are too.”

“Am-” Kurt stopped himself, hearing how childish they sounded. “I’ve just decided to change the subject.”

Sebastian laughed. “Have you?”

“Yes. Let’s talk about…literature.”

“And by that you mean trashy tabloids.” Sebastian decoded.

“The trashiest.”

Sebastian seemed to be contemplating it, sipping absently at his lukewarm latte.

“But don’t you wanna hear my plan?”

Kurt knew he was baiting him, but he couldn’t help himself. “…What plan?”

“My plan to get you laid. Obviously.”

And Kurt didn't know what he was expecting exactly, but that was a bit ridiculous. He suspected he was being pranked, but to Sebastian's credit his expression didn't even crack. Maybe he'd taken acting classes all those years he'd spent in Europe.

“Do you spend a lot of time thinking about my sex life?” He teased.

“About as much as you’d expect.” Sebastian said, an expert at non-answers.

“Incredible.”

“I’m trying to do you a favor.” Sebastian insisted. “Like your…fairy gay mother, if you will.”

Kurt bit his lip in an attempt not to laugh. “That’s um…that’s a bit redundant.”

“So? Interested?” Sebastian asked, and wow, he actually wasn't kidding.

“No thank you.” Kurt said with finality.

“Suit yourself.” Sebastian said, turning his attention back to scanning Kurt’s French paper. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Kurt was certain he would not be changing his mind.

 

 

It took all of ten days for Kurt to change his mind.

Well, not exactly. He wasn’t intending to go out and hook up with someone just because Sebastian decided that would be the solution to all his problems.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about that dumb comment, about him being repressed or whatever. It probably meant nothing, but it had opened up a floodgate in Kurt’s mind. Maybe he was a bit uptight. But he had to be. Wearing the clothes he wanted was one thing, but he couldn’t be like Sebastian, who practically made an Olympian sport out of pushing boundaries.

Kurt was content to use fashion to express himself, while Sebastian opted for a more vulgar approach.

But he couldn’t deny that he was curious as to what Sebastian’s so-called plan entailed. So maybe he’d play along, if only for educational purposes.

When he explained all of this via text, Sebastian simply texted him back a date and time, and told him to dress in something “less milkmaid, more minx”. He thought he’d back out for sure.

But then the weekend came around and he hadn’t backed out. Burt and Carol were out on their date night. Finn had been over at Rachel’s, which meant no Puck either.

So Kurt didn’t have to worry about any embarrassing run-ins as he tried on outfits before he found one that he figured may meet Sebastian’s requirements.

When the doorbell rang Kurt made sure to grab his wallet and keys before opening it.

And there was Sebastian, dressed in a dark blue v-neck and smiling that million-dollar smile that Kurt was sure he must have rehearsed at some point.

“Give us a twirl.” He said without any formal introduction, motioning with his fingers. And Kurt was so shocked he actually did it, turning around in a 360.

“Yeahhh, no. No, you’re gonna have to change.” Sebastian said.

“What?” Kurt asked, about to protest. But then he remembered the terms of their arrangement. “Fine.”

“Wait.” Sebastian called as Kurt started to walk away, eyes rising from where they had clearly been checking him out. “Keep the pants.”

“You’re having way too much fun with this.” Kurt remarked, but decided to let him have it. This was going to be the only time, like, ever, in which Sebastian would be giving him fashion advice.

Sebastian stepped inside after him, completely uninvited, looking around at the living room as if admiring the novelty of it. Kurt all of a sudden felt really self-conscious. Not that he cared what anyone thought. It wasn’t the biggest house, but it was his home.

Sebastian made no comment, instead plopping down on the couch gracelessly. “Please don’t take forever.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kurt said, thankful Sebastian didn’t ask to see his bedroom next.

Kurt got to his room and examined himself in the mirror. He realized his top was a bit conservative, but it was chilly outside, damn it. But fortune also favored the brave, so he reached into the back of his closet for that mesh shirt he never found an excuse to wear, mussed up his hair a little than made his way back to the door.

He stood there expectantly, waiting for an insult or compliment or any indication that Sebastian had even noticed he’d changed at all.

Instead, Sebastian’s eyes scanned his body carefully from his boots up, finally settling back on his face. “We’ll make it work.”

“Whatever you say, Tim Gunn.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “First tip of the night? Don’t be so mouthy.”

“Ignoring that tip.” Kurt said, following Sebastian out and locking the door behind him. “You look nice.”

“Not letting you drive.” Sebastian said preemptively, opening the car door. And then they were off to some unknown destination.

 

Instead of pulling up to the dingy bar Kurt was expecting, they arrived at a large house in Sebastian’s neighborhood, more modern in appearance than the Smythe estate. Kurt could hear the music booming from the street corner where they were parked.

Sebastian had been giving him little tips the entire way, things like “let them come to you” and “eye contact is everything”, despite Kurt telling him multiple times that he wasn’t trying to hook up with anyone. When he put the car in park, he grabbed a flask from the glove compartment.

“Tip number 367,” He started, and Kurt was getting the feeling that these numbers were pretty arbitrary, “Nothing wrong with a little liquid courage.”

Half a flask of spiced whisky later Kurt found himself at a healthy level of buzzed—his tolerance had gone up considerably, especially compared to the last time he bumped into Sebastian at a party. Except this time was different, because he was going to a party _with_ Sebastian Smythe instead, and Kurt figured that had to differ from what he’d seen of him at Scandals.

When Sebastian rang the doorbell a pretty girl greeted the door, her kinky hair fashioned in a faux Mohawk that she definitely wore better than Puck. Sebastian greeted her warmly and the girl kissed both of his cheeks before letting them in.

"That’s Lila. She’s a Johnson.” Sebastian explained, as if that meant anything to Kurt. But he couldn’t be bothered to ask him to elaborate, because he was too enthralled by the deafening music that seemed to make the floor shake in time with his pulse.

Sebastian was already grabbing his hand and leaning in to talk over the music. “Wanna dance?”

And Kurt was buzzed enough that that sounded like the best idea ever, so he followed Sebastian deeper into the throng of bodies.

The packed room made it impossible to dance with much room between them, and in another time Kurt may have cared, but this was the energy of the night, bodies pressed flush together, moving in complimentary ways.

By the third song Sebastian was pulling some overtly raunchy move and backing it up in a way that reduced both of them to a fit of giggles.

When they were face to face again Sebastian leaned in to tell him something. “Not to alarm you, but you’ve got a few stalkers.”

This was news to Kurt, who for the past fifteen minutes had only been looking at Sebastian. He chanced a look over his shoulder to realize that yes, some guys had been watching them. In another instance Kurt would think it was in disgust, but this was the polar opposite of that.

“They’re looking at you.” Kurt insisted, pulling him closer so they could dance again.

Sebastian shook his head. “I’ll prove it.” He said, and then he backed away, leaving Kurt alone in the crowd.

And then Kurt was practically ambushed, three guys from different angles, all heading his way to presumably ask him to dance.

Kurt scanned the crowd and found Sebastian again, making eye contact with him in the dimly lit room. He tilted his head as if to say, “told you” before disappearing again.

Well. If all these guys wanted to dance, Kurt supposed he’d make a night of it.

 

As the night went on everyone got considerably drunker, but Kurt tried to space out his drinks, wanting to keep his wits about him. He ran a hand through his hair, which he figured by now was a floppy mess, and just leaned against a wall, sighing happily. He danced with a lot of cute guys in ways that were downright sinful, and he’d take the time tomorrow to be horrified about that, but for that night he’d just felt pretty satisfied. He sipped at his drink, a fruity mixture of god knows what, that he figured was safe because he poured it himself—albeit from an unlabeled jug, but again, he’d reevaluate his choices in the morning.

"Hey there.” A voice said from beside him and he turned to see one of the guys he’d danced with earlier—Jackson, Kurt reminded himself—leaning on the wall next to him.

“Hi.”

“Tired of dancing?” Jackson asked, sounding a little disappointed, a little hopeful.

“Depends who’s asking.” Kurt said, watching the boy in front of him down the rest of his drink, and he absently thought of tip 367.

 _Liquid courage_.

“We had fun earlier.” He said, running a hand up and down Kurt’s arm.

“We did.” Kurt admitted, newfound energy coming from god knows where. He supposed he could muster another dance, so he downed his drink, too, and let himself be led out onto the floor.

And one dance led to another, and Kurt had to thank god that everyone was just as drunk; because he made some moves he wasn’t the proudest of. But it was flirty and fun, and Jackson was flirty and fun, and Kurt would count this night as an overall success.

When Jackson tugged on his wrist and led them back to the edges of the room, Kurt figured it was just to get some air. But instead he found himself being pushed into a corner, his personal space being invaded in a brand new way.

When Jackson tried to kiss him Kurt turned his head so he caught his cheek instead.

“Sorry.” Kurt laughed nervously, facing him again. “Sorry, I just-”

“You’re nervous.” Jackson said, running his hands down his side in a way that wasn’t comforting. “No need to be.”

When he leaned in again, Kurt tried to explain himself but it was like his voice was caught in his throat. It was dumb, to panic over a little kiss after the way they were dancing. But that didn’t stop the wave of panic from spreading through him. When Jackson’s grip didn’t let up Kurt acted impulsively, elbowing him hard in the side, causing him to cry out and stumble back.

“What the fuck?” Jackson groaned, holding his side and causing a few people to look over. Including Sebastian, who had been literally a few feet away the entire time.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Kurt whispered, mortified as he backed away. He stormed through the throngs of people dancing, ignoring Sebastian’s voice calling after him. He didn’t stop moving until he finally got outside, the cool air hitting him and doing absolutely nothing to calm him down.

Sebastian followed soon after, clearly dismayed, eyes hastily searching Kurt for any sign of harm. “Kurt. Kurt. What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Sebastian repeated, in that voice he used when he knew Kurt was lying. And Kurt went from embarrassed to defensive in two seconds flat.

“Like you didn’t see the whole thing.” Kurt snapped, voice high and piercing in a way that should’ve made Sebastian take a step back, but instead he got closer.

“I didn’t.” Kurt continued to glare at him. “I didn’t, I swear.”

“You were probably wondering what the hell was wrong with me.”

“Stop it.” Sebastian said. “Nothing’s wrong with you, okay?”

Kurt finally looked up at him. He wanted to believe him but he was unstable on his feet, still feeling the panic that seemed to always be there, lately, that had built a home just under his ribcage.

“I never thought that, I just…”

“Wanted me to be more like you?” Kurt finished for him.

“What?” Sebastian asked, bewildered.

“You think I don’t notice?” Kurt asked, unable to stop now that he’d started. He was paranoid now, and Sebastian was as good a target as any. “How you laugh at me? How you look at me? Like I’m pathetic.”

“I don’t-”

“Because I don’t throw myself around like some…some slut! Because my self worth isn’t defined by how many people I can sleep with in a week.”

Sebastian blinked and took a step back, all the concern on his face melting away and being replaced by contempt. Kurt would’ve been deterred by it in any other instance, but not now. Now it’s exactly what he was fishing for.

“Fuck you.” Sebastian said quietly. “Fuck you and your…and your god damn moral high horse.”

“I bet you’d like to.” Kurt countered. “I’m probably the only gay guy in Ohio you haven’t yet.”

Sebastian’s eyes got wide and he grew unbearably quiet, looking like he had so much he wanted to say and was struggling on where to start. But Kurt, Kurt who was all frustration and rage took the silence as confirmation.

“Oh. _Oh._ So that’s what this is about?” Kurt said. “This is all some…some cheap ploy to get in my pants, is that it?”

“How fucking dare you?” Sebastian asked. He looked stricken, as if Kurt had actually hit him, and honestly? Right about now the look suited him.

"I’m actually impressed. Didn’t know you were capable of playing the long game.”

Sebastian took a deep breath, one last-ditch effort at maintaining his patience. “Look. Kurt. I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to make you feel-”

“There’s that sweet Catholic guilt.” Kurt mused.

Sebastian’s eyes flashed briefly with anger before it disappeared, being replaced by cold calculation.

“If I wanted to fuck you, it wouldn’t take me three god damn months.” Sebastian started, getting in his personal space. “You are so desperate for it, you practically have “easy” written on your forehead. And the worst part? You don’t even know it because you’re _hiding,_ Kurt. You’re hiding behind all that…all that shame. I could’ve cornered you in any broom closet in Dalton that day we met and you would’ve been putty in my hands, so don’t sit there and act like we’re not the same.”

Kurt took a step back, blinking rapidly at this point. He was so furious he was shaking. “That is _not_ true.”

“Oh, it’s more true than you realize, sweetheart.” Sebastian assured him, voice deceptively sweet.

“You’re so arrogant.” Kurt all but growled, unable to keep himself in check for much longer.

“Every guy I’ve ever wanted I’ve gotten with ten words or less. You thinking you’re any different is what’s…what’s _arrogant_.”

“Not every guy.” Kurt said, quietly.

“What’s that? Speak up.”

“Not every guy.” Kurt said, loud now, an unspoken name between them.

Sebastian laughed, but there was no kindness there. He stepped closer and closer until there was no space between them. Anyone watching from the outside would think they were about to kiss, but Kurt knew better. Sebastian’s mouth bypassed his lips and grazed his ear instead.

“You win.” He whispered, giving his earlobe a small nip before backing away again, hands raised as if in surrender.

“What?” Kurt asked, slightly dizzy, his knees threatening to buckle.

“You’re right. About everything.” Sebastian said. “You win.”

Kurt was silent. He wasn’t right. He wasn’t. They didn’t come this far for him to be right. “You know I didn’t mean any of that.” He said, not knowing what else to say.

“No, you did. You did, and that’s okay.” Sebastian said, wearing this weird little smile that broke Kurt’s heart in two. “I deserved to hear the truth, for once.”

“Sebastian…”

“ So I’ll just…I’ll call you a ride home and you can forget I ever existed, how does that sound?” Sebastian continued, fumbling in his pockets in search for his phone.

“Sebastian, stop…” Kurt said softly, stepping close again, cupping his face in his hands. Sebastian flinched slightly, and Kurt realized absently that his hands must have been cold. “Look at me.”

Sebastian was defiant for three, four seconds before forcing his eyes on Kurt.

“I’m really sorry, okay? I lashed out because I was…I don’t know. Embarrassed? And I know you’re sorry too. And I also know you’re really drunk, because I’m pretty sure you just bit me.”

Sebastian didn’t smile, but there was that tell-tale twitch. “You liked it.”

And they were back in familiar territory, this strange, pseudo-flirting Kurt had grown accustom to.

“I would never try to change you.” Sebastian said more earnestly. And that was as good as any apology.

They were quiet for a moment, just looking at each other. And Kurt had to give them credit, that for every falling out they had they always arrived at some new, better understanding of each other.

“Please let go of my face.” Sebastian said after a moment, and Kurt dropped his hands quickly.

“I need a drink.” Sebastian all but pleaded. “Let’s walk back to my place? I’ll drop you off in the morning.”

Kurt knew no amount of alcohol would make either of them forget tonight, but if it was what Sebastian needed, he wouldn’t deny him of that.

“Isn’t it kind of late?” Kurt asked instead. “Doesn’t seem safe.”

“We’re in the suburbs.” Sebastian deadpanned.

“Right.”

“We’ll be fine.” Sebastian said, starting to walk back down the street, and Kurt followed alongside him.

Yeah, Kurt realized, the only warmth being the occasional press of Sebastian’s shoulder to his. They would be.

 

 

Kurt woke up the following morning with a killer hangover, rolling over to see Sebastian knocked out, completely still in a way he never managed to be while awake. He remembered them getting back to the empty house, and Sebastian opening some old bottle of wine from his parents’ cellar, because it’s not like they were around enough to notice. He was talking a mile a minute about what kind of wine it was—old, Kurt had reasoned—and was nearly manic in his avoidance of the elephant in the room.

Kurt played along, convincing the two of them that he had all but forgotten what transpired a mere hour earlier.

“Do you speak Italian?” Kurt asked when Sebastian had mentioned his time in Italy.

“Kind of.” Sebastian said. “Like a child, but I could get around.”

“Ugh.” Kurt said in disgust. “What can’t you do?”

Sebastian thought about it, sitting in the chair across from him. “Eighth grade geometry was a bitch.”’

Overall, despite the minor detour, it was a good night. And Kurt’s impossible migraine reaffirmed the fact. He looked down to see that he’d changed at some point into one of Sebastian’s prep school hoodies. He carefully got out of bed as to not wake him up, heading down the stairs towards the kitchen.

He figured a good apology breakfast would settle the issue, considering he had called him some names he wasn’t proud of, and food was the one gesture of kindness he had perfected over the years.

Except when he got in the kitchen, someone was already there, sitting on the counter and sipping from a mug.

“Oh. You must be Kurt.” She said in a delighted voice, hopping off the counter and headed toward him, extending a hand in a gesture that would’ve seemed formal coming from anyone else. “Penny.”

Kurt shook it, surprised at how firm the grip was, especially for a 14-year-old girl.

She wasn’t Sebastian’s look alike exactly, but she had those familiar green eyes that seemed to pierce skin.

“Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea?”

Kurt thought about telling her she didn’t have to do that, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Tea would be good.”

Kurt leaned against the counter and watched her make it with a practiced ease, grabbing the kettle of recently heated water and filling an entire porcelain tea pot, adding leaves and spices from various glass jars, then pouring it into a mug identical to her own.

The elaborate process had him so entranced that he forgot it was for him, and he reached out for it as an after thought, taking a small sip, and wow, that was some really good tea.

She watched him drink it, equally as fascinated by him as he’d been by her. “Do you like it? It’s from Taiwan.”

"Yes. Yeah. I can tell.” Kurt joked, his palette not nearly that refined.

Penny laughed, apparently possessing that uncanny Smythe ability to read minds. “You’re cute, Kurt.”

Kurt nearly choked on his tea but tried to mask it by clearing his throat. “Do you mind if I use your stove?” He asked, remembering what he came down here for.

“It’s not my stove.” She pointed out, moving out of the way.

She watched him carefully as he searched the kitchen for ingredients for pancakes, like he was a stray animal that had wandered into her home, and she was trying to determine whether or not he was worth keeping.

“Does Sebastian like blueberries?” He asked, figuring he might as well pick her brain while she was there.

She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. But chocolate’s better.”

Kurt couldn’t help but roll his eyes fondly, the younger Smythe sibling growing on him. “I’ll make you a separate batch, okay?”

Kurt continued making breakfast, holding light conversation with her as she alternated between playing some game on her phone and snagging stray chocolate chips from the bag. He may have let it slip that he was trying to extend an olive branch of sorts, and she clicked her tongue.

“He wasn’t mean to you, was he?” She asked. “You’ll have to excuse him, it’s our time of the month.”

“I’m sorry?”

Just then Sebastian stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing one eye. “Is someone making pancakes?” When he saw that his sister and Kurt were in the same space he woke up instantly. “Penny. Out.”

“But Kurt’s making me pancakes.”

“And that’s very nice of him, but I told you not to talk to my friends.”

“No. You said I couldn’t talk to Hunter, or Lila, or Blaine, or Karen or-” She started to list, rambling on.

Sebastian looked at her and Kurt could see the wheels turning in his head before he looked away entirely. “Kurt, wanna see a photo of Penny from last year?”

“Seb!” She gasped. “Stop it.”

“It’s great. She had these neon pink braces and-”

“I’m leaving, god!” She said, practically stomping out before Sebastian could get another word out.

Kurt watched the entire exchange, deeply entertained but also feeling a bit bad for Penny, who he actually liked.

“What’d the little weirdo say to you?” Sebastian asked once she was gone.

“I think…she just insinuated that you’re both on the same cycle.”

Sebastian looked weirdly proud. “She thinks she’s so clever.”

“Wonder where she got that from.” Kurt teased, returning his attention to the pancakes.

“Are those all for Penny?”

“No, these are ours.”

Sebastian looked puzzled by the overt kindness but didn’t press it. Instead he busied himself by making coffee for the two of them, setting the mugs on the counter as Kurt set down two plates.

They ate in silence that wasn’t the least bit comfortable, until Sebastian’s fork fell down with a loud clunk, causing Kurt to look up.

“Okay, these pancakes are incredible,” Sebastian started, tone so serious it was borderline comical, “But I think we need to talk.”

And that was where they differed, because Kurt made this entire breakfast in lieu of talking, because all they did was talk and it often times lead to disaster. He hoped his silence would express all of this, but the boy in front of him just kept looking at him expectantly and for god’s sake, the pancakes were getting cold.

“Fine.”

“What happened last night?” Sebastian asked, his tone casual, but eyes conveying the sense of urgency.

Kurt realized he’d been in such a frenzy that he’d left Sebastian in the dark completely, had given him hours for his imagination to spiral out of control.

Kurt shook his head, not knowing to explain how he’d felt, how his throat closed up in that moment. “I kind of…I have this issue. I can’t explain it, but-” He stopped himself, realizing that wasn’t quite true.

“You don’t have to.” Sebastian said, trying to be gracious. Trying to be kind.

“Karofsky kissed me.” Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself. He’d never told anyone that before. “He cornered me in a locker room and we were arguing and then he just...grabbed my face and kissed me, no warning or…I know it’s not a big deal…”

Sebastian made a sound then, so Kurt opted for honesty.

“But I guess it was? To me, it was. And I honestly thought I was over it. But last night it just…I felt like I was back in that locker room. I couldn’t speak, I just…I freaked out.”

Kurt was scared to look Sebastian in the eye, would absolutely die if he saw pity of any variation. But he chanced it, and there was nothing like that. They were just studying his face.

“So that’s why you wanted to leave.” Sebastian said, finally. And Kurt knew they were no longer talking about the party.

Kurt had hoped they’d never get around to this part.

“That was part of it, yeah.” Kurt admitted.

“And I scared you away.” Sebastian said, and Kurt recognized the lilt in his voice from last night, that sound of him closing in on himself.

“Don’t give yourself so much credit.” Kurt said, offering up a smile. “I decided not to run. You had nothing to do with it.”

And that was true. Kurt stayed because he belonged at McKinley, because his friends were there, because, as his dad often reminded him, no one pushed the Hummels around. Even if it meant enduring small traumas.

“Okay.” Sebastian said, then, suddenly, “And I’m not trying to sleep with you.”

Kurt snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

“No. I mean.” He laughed, poorly concealing his embarrassment. “You’re gorgeous, but I don’t have ulterior motives, or whatever, and I know you have no reason to believe me, but-”

“I know.” Kurt said, cutting him off. And ignoring the fact that Sebastian just admitted to being attracted to him. “I was being dumb.”

And ignorant and judgmental in a way he was still unlearning.

Sebastian nodded, seeming a bit lighter, like that had been weighing on him.

He looked at Sebastian, stripped of his bravado, and wondered what he’d endured, the role he’d played to convince everyone around him that he was the perfect son, fit to inherit the Smythe fortune. The giving and the giving and the compromising until there wasn’t much left. Small traumas.

He wondered when he snapped, when he stopped, well-

 _Hiding_ , Sebastian had accused him of only hours prior. _Hiding behind all that shame._

And Kurt realized that was what this was about. Sebastian wasn’t trying to fashion Kurt into something he wasn’t. He just wanted him to know that he could express every side of himself, that his attraction to men didn’t have to be Disney friendly to be okay.

 _Good_ , Kurt decided. If the world were indeed that simple, Sebastian would be good.

“Did you have fun?”

“I did.” Kurt said, remembering the better parts of the night fondly. And how they’d danced. “Maybe too much.”

Sebastian laughed, the concept of excess being foreign. “Never heard that before.”

Kurt shook his head fondly. Of course he hadn’t.


End file.
